They sat for a few moments in companionable silence. He liked that she didn’t feel compelled to fill the silence with chatter. Again, he found himself wondering what it was about this woman. One look at her and he’d known immediately that he wanted to get to know her better. She fascinated and intrigued him, made him ache in ways he hadn’t since he’d been a teenager. Of course he’d dated, but he’d never allowed himself to get serious. After all, he didn’t want to take a chance on loving someone like his mom.
Yet here he was, fighting his attraction to this woman who clearly didn’t understand the evil behind the head of AAG’s smiling façade. Fiona seemed too innocent, too trusting.
And the thought that she was under Micheline’s thumb galled him. Clearing his throat, he broke the silence. “Tell me, what appeals to you most about AAG?” he asked.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and focused on him. “I like the idea of evolving,” she said, the answer seeming to come easily. “Of becoming the best person you can be.”
Micheline’s stock phrase. Be Your Best You. She’d developed it when he’d still been a teenager, living with her. If she’d even once thought her behavior to be the best version of herself, he shuddered to think of what the worst might be.
“Is that what you think Micheline and Leigh are doing?” he asked, keeping his tone mild. “To me it seems like they’re awfully concerned about money. Even more than truly helping others.”
She blinked. “We all have to find ways to use the talents we’ve been given,” she said, once again parroting his mother. “The AAG has to have an influx of cash to support itself. All Micheline is doing is taking her talent for helping others and soliciting donations to keep us going.” She shrugged. “You honestly can’t blame her.”
He could and he did, but knew better than to say that out loud. Did Fiona honestly believe that crap?
Though he knew he’d probably get nowhere, he’d hate himself if he didn’t at least attempt to help save her. “Are you aware that many people consider AAG a cult?”
Something—Surprise? Dread?—flashed in her eyes. “Many people?” she asked, her tone dry. “That’s kind of vague. Who exactly do you mean?”
Unable to help himself, he covered her hand with his. “What I’m trying to say is that I know someone you could talk to, if you want help trying to make sense of all this. He’s a therapist who specializes in this kind of situation.”
She’d gone absolutely still, her beautiful eyes still fixed on him. “This kind of situation?”
“Cults,” he finally admitted. “He deprograms people who’ve been indoctrinated into a cult.”
Though she looked down, he could have sworn her mouth twitched in the beginning of a smile.
He squeezed her hand once before releasing her. “You don’t have to decide right now. All I ask is that you think about it. There’ll be no cost to you—I’ll take care of all that. And if you need a place to stay, I’ve got that covered as well.”
When she finally met his gaze again, her face had gone expressionless. “Thanks for your kind offer,” she said. “But none of that is necessary. I’m fine where I am. Right now, at this point in my life, this is where I need to be. I belong here.”
Her words made his heart ache. “Fiona, I know we’ve just met, but I’m attracted to you. The thought of you under Micheline’s thumb is...unpalatable to me. Please, at least say you’ll think about it.”
“I need to get ready for dinner,” she stammered, the heat appearing to simmer in her eyes matching what thrummed in his blood.
He opened his mouth and then closed it. With a curt nod, he pushed to his feet and turned to head inside and up to his room. “Just knock when you’re ready to go. I’ll be there waiting.”
She didn’t follow.
All the way back to his room, he cursed his impetuous words. She must think him a complete idiot. He definitely felt like one. He couldn’t help but wonder if Fiona might run to Leigh or Micheline and tell them what he’d offered. That would definitely be...interesting, to say the least.
Back in his room, he checked in with Tom, the hand he’d pegged to run his ranch while he was away. Though he hadn’t expected any trouble, he couldn’t help but feel relief to hear that everything continued to run like clockwork in his absence.
Though he only planned on staying two more days at the most, he went ahead and unpacked his suitcase, hanging his clothes up in the closet. Wherever they ended up going for dinner tonight, Western shirts, blue jeans and boots would have to work, since that’s all he had.
He turned on the television to kill time and watched the evening news, glad of the sense of normalcy in a place that felt anything but.
The tap on his door came just as the news program ended. He shut the TV off and opened his door.
Fiona stood there, wearing a form-hugging dress of pale yellow and a pair of killer stiletto shoes. Somehow, she managed to look bot
h virginal and sexy as hell. His body responded immediately.
“Are you ready?” she asked, clearly unaware of the effect she had on him.
“I am.” If he could walk. “You look...amazing.”
Instead of smiling, she grimaced. “Thanks. Leigh picked this dress out and brought it to me, along with the shoes. Micheline bought it. Your mother told her that yellow is your favorite color.”